Sirius Moves In
by TragediesPainfulKiss
Summary: Grimmauld Place had been compromised, thanks to Kreacher, and Albus declares it is safest if Sirius stays with Severus. As you can imagine, things are rocky. Can the two make the best of this situation? WIll they become friends? Heavy Slytherin themes.
1. Chapter 1

Sirius gagged heavily as he appirated with Albus, landing within the confines of a place he had been told was called Spinner's End. An awful, putrid odor assaulted his nose and he could only guess it emanated from the nearly black river that wound it's way about the wretched area. With great disdain, Sirius noticed the great majority of homes were simply abandoned and boarded up with whatever chunks of wood or cardboard that could be found. Broken streetlamps lay across the uneven sidewalks and stuck out every few feet from the poisonous river. What appeared to be an abandoned wool mill looked close to collapse, and the several pieces of creative graffiti lines its crumbling walls. Overgrown shrubs and briers line the river and homes, along with several shards of glass, and Sirius had to be careful to watch his step for fear the large pieces of glass would break through his boots to cut his flesh open.

It was late, the sun already setting, as he made his way with Albus through the streets- taking care not to stumble and fall over the debris that lay about in the uncared for streets or to slip in various piles of blood and vomit. Sirius marveled that a town such as this still stood, and he wouldn't be surprised to find that, in the morning, the town had vanished or was condemned like it obviously should have been years ago.

"It reeks."He muttered darkly, glaring out at the depressing scene laid out before him. "The heat doesn't help either." If anything, it made the stench worse.

"It's only for awhile, Sirius," Albus consoled, "You'd do well to try and focus on the positives."

"Such as?" Sirius demanded, in no mood to deal with Albus's eccentricities.

"You've always said how much you've wished to be free from Grimmauld Place, and now you're wish has been granted." The ancient man said simply, sidestepping what appeared to be the corpse of a squirrel.

"I'd much rather be back there than here!" Sirius snapped, feeling uncomfortable in the muggle clothes Albus had forced him into. "Mother is a hundred times more tolerable than Snape!"

"The Fidelius Charm no longer protects Grimmauld Place, Sirius." Albus explained slowly, but showed no sign of weariness and Sirius's protests. "The safest place for you right now, and the most secretive, is with Severus."

"I'd rather be back in Azkaban!" Sirius grumbled, kicking a beer bottle and sending it skidding down the street.

"I've heard just about _enough _of this ungratefulness, Sirius." Albus's voice was uncharacteristically stern. "If nothing else you can at least attempt to hide your contempt."

Sirius didn't bother, or dare, to argue with the powerful man and settled for glaring down at the dirty ground below him. Ever since graduation, his life had no longer been as lucky and carefree as it used to be. In fact, it seemed almost to be the opposite. There no longer a break to be had for Sirius, and it frustrated him to no end.

They arrived at the end of street, coming face to face with a house that was not better off than any of the others in that neighborhood. The paint was peeling and the concrete steps, leading up to the warped door, were cracked and crumbling. While the windows weren't boarded up, they were heavily curtained, and Sirius could only guess that the inside did not fare any better. Didn't Snape have a manor? He was a Slytherin wasn't he? What the hell was this?

Albus carefully ascended the hazardous steps before knocking loudly on the door, and Sirius was hoping that Snape wouldn't answer. Albus would have no choice then but to let him stay at Hogwarts. He was out of luck again, however, as Albus simply opened the door and gestured for Sirius to follow. He did so reluctantly, fully expecting Snape to ambush him the moment he stepped a toe without his subpar house.

He stepped into a tiny living room, by his standards, and looked at his surrounding with a scowl on his face. Everything was neat and orderly, not a speck of dust anywhere; not even on the walls that were comprised mostly of hundreds of ancient looking books. A threadbare sofa, two old armchairs and a rickety coffee table were the only furnishings available, and Sirius wondered how anyone could stand to live in such a place.

"Narcissa? Lucius?" Snape's excited voice called out, and Sirius scowled, the Malfoy's were hardly anything to be overjoyed about. "Who's here?"

"It's me, my dear boy!" Albus called out jollily, settling himself down on well-used sofa.

"Albus?" Snape sounded confused and angry at the same time and, for once, Sirius could say he felt the same way. "Is everything alright?" Snape's tired voice drifted into the living room, followed by the sound of pounding footsteps on stairs.

Sirius was very confused, wondering just how big the house was. He had been almost certain it was one measly floor when one of the bookshelves slide aside a few feet, revealing Snape standing at the bottom of a very narrow staircase. Wearing a glower, the greasy git stepped into the living room, the bookcase sliding back into place as soon as his boots hit the floorboards.

"What is _he _doing here?" Snape demanded, his tone waspish and his face twisted up in irritation.

"I've some rather unfortunate news, child." Albus said kindly, folding his hands in his lap. "It appears Kreacher has compromised the safety of Grimmauld Place."

Snape just stared, still managing to look bat-like even in the muggle clothes he was wearing. "While it _is_ most unfortunate that Order headquarters have been jeopardized, I fail to see how that would warrant you arriving at my house at this hour with Black in tow."

"It would appear that Sirius needs a place to stay." Albus said softly, making it sound as if this were a perfectly reasonable conversation that was about to be had.

As usual, Snape caught on quickly to the schemes others planned. "Why _here_, Albus?" Snape hissed. "Why not _anywhere _else!?" He finished, his eyes taking on a steely edge.

"The ministry has had Sirius's money tied up for the last year, and I have little hope that they will be rectifying the problem any time soon." Despite the kindness in Albus's voice, there was no sugarcoating the raw facts, and Sirius despised the fact that Snape should know about his predicament.

"Why can't the Weasley's take him!?" Snape snapped. "Or Lupin- or anyone else from his damnable fanclub?"

"Severus," Albus's voice was gently, as if he were a father gently scolding his wayward child, "The majority of people still believe Sirius to be guilty, even with the ministry's public declaration of his innocence, and I do believe there might be some out there who would wish to harm Sirius."

"You still haven't told me why one of his mates can't take him in!" Severus argued, clearly as unamused with Albus's plan as Sirius was.

"Believe me, Snape, if there was _any _other option I'd have taken it." Sirius returned his glare.

"But what of all those mates of yours, Dog? Have they so quickly abandoned you?" Snape taunted, his lips turning back in a sneer.

"At least _I've _got mates." Sirius spat, his own face curling into a vicious mask.

"I assure you've I've plenty enough friends, Black." Snape purred. "The only difference, it seems, is that mine are _truly _loyal while _yours _abandoned you." The words were icy and cruel, and Sirius fought the urge to attack. "Why can't he live with the wolf?" He asked, glowering all the while.

"If you haven't _forgotten_, _you _got Remus fired!" Sirius accused, blood boiling as he recalled the events leading up to that.

"If _you _haven't forgotten, Lupin should have taken his damn wolfsbane potion!" Snape countered.

"Maybe if you didn't make such disgusting rubbish, he'd _actually _be able to stomach it!"

"Then _you _can make the damn potion for him, seeing as you don't feel I'm doing an adequate job." Severus drawled, disdain in his black eyes for the entire situation.

"Enough of this bickering, boys, it solves _nothing_." Albus interrupted. "Please, let us talk this through calmly."

It wasn't a suggestion, it was simply an order masked in a sweet tone, and Sirius knew better than to disregard it or go against it. With the least amount of gratefulness he could muster, Sirius flopped down on the couch beside Albus, glaring as Snape settled himself in the leather recliner.

"Severus, I hate to ask you such a favor knowing how opposed you are toward it, but ask I must." Albus did look apologetic, as he gazed at Severus with sympathetic eyes. "I've exhausted every other option, I promise you, but I always wind up with the same conclusion- Sirius must stay with you."

"Why?" Snape asked through gritted teeth, his tone taking on an edge of defeat along with anger.

"I believe we've already gone over one or two of the reasons," Albus smiled, softly scolding Snape, "Might I also add that I feel Sirius should be _far _from those who wish to harm him and in the care of someone who would be better able to protect him should a lynch mob form outside your door?"

"You're asking a lot, Albus!" Snape sounded tired, yet furious at the same time. "You do realize that?"

"Of course I do, my boy." Albus nodded. "And I hate to impose on you so, believe me, but you are just so reliable and willing to do as I ask. Don't think it is not appreciated."

"How long, Albus?" Snape sighed, frowning heavily as he slumped down into the oversized chair.

"However long it takes for another plan to be devised, and not a minute more." Albus promised, placing a hand over his heart.

Snape just scowled at the proud look coming from Albus. "You always get what you want, don't you, Albus?" He muttered darkly. "An awfully Slytherin trait if you ask me."

"And you are always so eager and willing to help out the Light," Albus countered smoothly, "A very Gryffindor trait if you ask me."

Snape looked as if he were about to hex the old man, but remained still, face flushing with anger at the compliment Snape clearly took as a most grievous insult.


	2. Chapter 2

For the good ten minutes after Albus left, all Severus did was glare at the mutt who returned the hate-filled look. When that did nothing but higher Severus's blood-pressure and driving him closer to murder, he stood up abruptly and touched a part of the bookshelf that served as sentry to his staircase.

"Where're you going?" Black demanded, as soon as he heard the shelves move aside.

"I suppose I'd better show you to your room," Severus sneered, "As much as I'd rather have you sleeping outside, I _did _promise Albus I'd be _somewhat _civil."

Black said nothing, clearly recalling Albus's half-threat, half-warning to be polite and gracious, and stomped after Severus as he ascended the stairwell. Severus was careful to use the handrail as he navigated the death-traps, learning from early childhood how treacherous the stairs could be, but chose not share such information with Black as it would be no skin of Severus's teeth if the mutt had a small tumble that set him flying on his arse. And honestly, if the marauder wasn't smart enough to recognize when caution was called for, it wasn't Severus's fault. He _was _always needing blood for potions anyways...

"Bloody hell!" Black exclaimed, falling face-first on the steep incline. "Have you gone an oiled these things!?" He demanded, carefully righting himself and grabbing ahold of the railing.

Severus ignored the petulant man-child and kept climbing the creaking steps, unable to stop thinking about what a great idea Black had just given him. If he placed a few strategic cushioning charms about a select few steps, it wouldn't even kill Black, only seriously mangle.

Storing the idea in the back of his mind for later, resolving to work out the kinks in the plan, he stepped out in the hallway and waited for Black to catch up. It took a few more seconds, and he muttered oaths under his breath the whole time, but anamagi finally arrived and gestured for Severus to continue with a jerking of his chin.

Severus simply rolled his eyes in return, wondering how he could best survive this unexpected houseguest without committing his first premeditated murder. From what he had heard from both Black's whining and the other death eaters warnings, Azkaban was not a very jolly place to live within. He _could _make it look like an accident, but he was far too busy to waste his time with anything that involved Black- even the carrying out of his murder. And Severus was almost certain that bludgeoning said man to death with a pair of brass knuckles would not constitute as _civil _in Albus's books. He'd simply have to leave Black to his own devices, figuring that eventually he would do something so stupid and foolish he'd off himself without any outside assistance.

Severus gracefully held his arm out, pointing out what behind the various rooms. "That is the bathroom," He drawled, displeased at having to share _anything _with his nemesis- especially his bathroom, "If you don't want to suffer _horribly_, I'd suggest you stay away from drinking anything from _any _of the taps in this house, or anywhere else in this town." As much as he'd like to let Black suffer from intestinal distress, they _were _sharing a bathroom. "You _will _keep it clean, along with any other room or hallway in this house." He warned, knowing he'd likely be unable to control himself if his perfectly polished and organized home was turned into anything but its usual perfection.

"How am I to shower," Black asked, "When the water is as poisonous as it?"

Severus narrowed his eyes at the privileged man. Black was certainly in for a rude awakening. An awakening that Severus was more than willing to help with. "You'll do as everyone else in this town has had to do since the mill shut down. You'll haul in water and boil it."

"You don't have a house-elf?" Black looked horrified at the idea that any Slytherin should be without a slave, and Severus had to restrain himself from defending the poor creatures. It wouldn't do for Black to see the small bit of compassion he possessed.

"Look around you, Black. Does it _look _like I've got a house-elf?" He questioned, his voice laden with sarcasm. Obviously Severus would not be living in such a house if he were as well off as his counterparts. But of course, Black was too stupid to see that Severus did exactly come from the same stock as him and the rest of his kind. He scowled even deeper- for once, Black's inability to put two and two together wasn't unbearably annoying.

Black said nothing and colored slightly as he realized he had asked a stupid question. Satisfied enough with the reaction, Severus gestured at another door.

"That is _my _room." He drawled. "It is heavily warded and should you even _try _to so much as touch the door or peek through the keyhole, you will find yourself experiencing pain only _slightly _less severe than that of the cruciatus curse." It was no exaggeration, and should the mutt be stupid enough to push his luck, Severus would feel no compassion.

"And this," Snape walked a few feet down the hall and stopped in front of a room he hadn't opened since his parent's death, "Is where you'll be staying." He pushed against the door, but it refused to budge more than a few centimeters.

Scowling at the insubordinate chunk of wood, he pulled his wand out, easily bypassing whatever ward his mother had obviously placed on the door for whatever reason. He wasn't surprised at the stench of dust and gin that assaulted his nose, nor was he shocked to see the piles of said gin bottles and a few suspiciously head-shaped holes in the wall that just happened to at his mother's height. The black marks on the wall from several hexes and jinx's that had missed their marks hardly made him look twice either. He frowned at the blanket atop the bed, covered in vomit stains and a puddle or two of blood. He'd have to offer Black a clean blanket, and sheets as well, figuring that if the blanket was in such a dreadful state the rest of the bed set would be too. Leave it to a Marauder to inconvenience him.

Black gawked, clearly insulted that he should be forced to stay in a room he felt was so beneath him. "What the hell is that?" Black gestured at the television that stood atop an old dresser that likely needed clearing out.

Severus sighed, a headache forming. "It's a television, Black. A muggle device."

"What does it do?" Black stepped away from the thing, as if he expected it to hex him. "Is it like a fellytone?"

A _telephone_, Black." Severus corrected, fighting the desire to throw said object at him. "And no, they're very different. A television is like a series of moving pictures, with sound, that you can watch. It tells a story."

Black's eyes widened like a child's would when they were informed Santa had come and left gifts in the night- not that Severus ever knew what that felt like, but he had heard enough stories to be certain the analogy was correct. "How?"

Remembering his promise not to _murder _said man-child, Severus sighed. "I will _not _be wasting my time, explaining in depth, how electricity works." He taunted. "That being said electricity runs the thing and electricity is one of the closest things to magic muggles will ever get." There was love too, but Severus wasn't going to share _that_ with the Gryffindor or _anything _else but what was strictly necessary.

"What a gracious host..." Black mumbled, poking the dusty tv screen with a tentative finger.

"Like you were?' Severus retorted.

"I didn't really have a choice _but _to allow you in my house...I wouldn't exactly call that hosting."

"How is _this _any different, Black?" Severus demanded, turning away sharply. "I'll bring you clean sheets and the like, _try _not to do anything stupid in the meantime."

He left Black standing looking insulted, and stomped as loud as he possibly could down the upstairs corridor while still managing to sound graceful-as such was one of his talents. If the Gryffindors, and Hufflepuffs, and even a good portion of the Ravenclaws could manage a _fifteenth _of his grace and refinery Hogwarts would be a hell of a lot quieter. Maybe not more tolerable, but certainly quieter.

Going to the linen closet he scowled again and cursed Albus yet again for always putting him in these kinds of situations. Severus would have thought that with how much he was risking his life for the Order, Albus could find someone else's day to ruin for a change. Grabbing a neat stack of the bed dressings, he pondered briefly about dusting the things with itching powder but thought twice about it as the thought of Black scratching himself in his house was not a pleasant one.

Making his way back to the room he had been forced to provide for Black, he caught the social pariah poking his fingers into the VCR slat as if he expected to garner some result despite the obvious fact that nothing was going to happen as a result of it.

Ignoring said man, who was busy poking buttons despite the tv being unplugged, Severus carelessly yanked the bedclothes off and threw them into the corridor. The mattress beneath _was _a bit dingy with age, but that was hardly his issue. Tossing the fresh linens in a heap on the bed, he turned to glare at Black.

"You have to plug the tv in, Black." He gritted through his teeth, huffily shoving the prongs into the outlet. He was not doing this to be kind, of course not, but if Black was preoccupied with a show on tv, or a movie on a vcr tape, he could hardly irritate Severus anymore than he already was.

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Sirius huffed as Snape left the room, closing the door behind him rather loudly. Leave it to Snape to make this situation even worse. The git hadn't even bothered to make the bed for his guest, which Sirius took a great affront. Sirius Black did _not _make beds, that was woman's work. Not that woman's work was any less valuable...but nonetheless, it was not a man's job to fix up a bed, nor clean up a room that was dusty and laden with dozens of gin bottles.

It had taken him a very angry hour and a half to get the room in as livable a condition as possible as Sirius possessed little knowledge of cleaning charms and spells. Having had to do the housework by muggle-means had put him in a dour mood, and by the time he was done he was wishing those gin bottles had had their alcohol still within. Making the bed proved easy enough, once Sirius decided the sheets were pointless and were _never _going to cooperate with him. Laying atop his pillows, Sirius figured they could at least function as a fourth pillow.

He was now at least _moderately _comfortable, watching something called a 'movie' that Snape had shoved into the slot in a thing called a 'vcr.' Having explained the process of working the tv and vcr, along with a 'remote' Sirius had been to find that he was actually enjoying the video Snape had picked out for him. While the sing at first had started to turn him off, Sirius found he quite enjoyed the film called 'Little Shop of Horrors.' He wasn't certain why Seymour didn't punch out Mr. Mushnik along with Audrey's boyfriend, but he was able to ignore that plot hole and find interest in the sadistic plant that had a thirst for blood.

Speaking of Audrey's boyfriend...what the hell was a dentist and why did people pay one to yank their teeth out? Despite his curiosity, he'd have to wait to ask Hermione or Harry about that as there was no way he was going to ask Snape or much less get an answer from the insufferable bat.

Stretching, when the move apparently ended, he looked at his watch. It was eight, and he hadn't eaten such lunch. He hated to be at Snape's mercy to provide him with food, but his pride was outweighed by his hunger pangs. Pushing the power button, the screen turned black and Sirius began his painfully slow and very careful descent down the wooden steps.

Relived when he made it down in one piece, only slipping up twice, he poked the wall and was grateful when that was all that was needed to get the bookcase to slip aside. Moving quickly into the living room, for fear the shelves would slam shut on him if he didn't, he noticed Snape reading a thick book from his perch in the recliner.

"What do you want?" Snape asked, not even looking up from the pages of what had to be a dark arts book.

"Food?" Sirius asked hopefully, his stomach growling in testament to the fact of his imminent starvation.

"The kitchen's that way." Snape jerked him chin toward a doorway, but otherwise made no move that would indicate he would be making supper for his guest.

Growling quietly he stormed into the kitchen, hardly surprised that it was as pristine as the rest of the house was. Throwing open the fridge, he noticed something in a container that looked like lasagna. That sounded great, actually, and if Snape was as good at cooking as he was at potion brewing Sirius's stomach was in for a treat. But how the hell did he reheat it? Was he supposed to put in the stove again? Did he need a pan for that? How high was he supposed to set the stove too? Where the hell was a house-elf when you needed one, or a woman for that matter?

Figuring setting the stovetop on high would work, he placed the container atop the burner and waited for his food to warm up. Humming the opening song to Little Shop of Horrors, he leaned against the countertops and wondered what the majority of appliances atop Snape's counters were. He couldn't recognize any of them, and he was almost certain they were muggle. Which was odd, seeing as Snape was a Slytherin and likely despised anything of that nature.

He was rummaging through the drawers, looking for a fork, when a deafening screech filled the house and the smell of acrid smoke shoved its way into his nose forcibly. With horror he noticed that the container was now a melted mess and starting to smolder. Where the hell had he gone wrong? Without thought, he grabbed at the molten mess only to curse loudly when it burned his flesh.

"What the hell, Black?" Snape rushed into the kitchen, coughing as the smoke accosted his lungs. Hurrying to the stove, Snape's face turned red. Pulling his wand out, he banished the mess before climbing up atop a counter to poke a button on a circular thing stuck atop the ceiling.

Sirius relaxed when the grating sound was silenced, but was quickly on edge again when Snape glowered at him.

"Have you _never _had to cook for yourself?" Snape questioned. "Why the hell would you _ever _put plastic _anywhere _near a heat source!?"

"Relax! Nothing happened!" Sirius pointed out.

"You could have burned my house down!" Snape sounded outraged. "Why didn't you just use the microwave?"

"Maybe because I don't know what that is!" Sirius explained, throwing out his arms in defeat. "_You_ may have all this knowledge on the workings of Muggle appliances, for whatever reason, but _I _don't!"

"Why didn't you ask!?"

"Because I hate you!" Sirius roared, unable to think of anything more clever to shoot back.

Snape said nothing, surprising Sirius to do end, and simply removed another container of lasagna from the fridge. Removing a small plate from a cupboard, he scooped the food unto the dishware and shoved it into a box-looking thing.

"This, is a _microwave_." Snape explained slowly. "You do not put anything plastic in it, nor anything metal." The bat pushed a few buttons. "You can chose how long you'd like to cook something by punching in the time using the buttons. It is an old microwave, and takes a bit longer."

"How long do I cook things for?" Sirius grudgingly asked, hating the man for making him feel stupid.

"It depends." Snape said dryly. "I will leave a note for you beside the microwave so you don't have to guess. The majority of things can be cooked in the microwave, Black, so you won't need to use the oven."

"Fine." Sirius growled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Black." Snape forced out. "When the microwave beeps, your food is ready. I'll be in the living room, _trying _to read. Do _not _set off the smoke detector again."

"I _won't_." Sirius growled, already hating the damnable things that rivaled that of a banshee's screeching.

"Good." Snape muttered, going back into the living room.

Glad that Snape was gone, so he could eat in peace, he carefully removed the food and sat at the small table in the kitchen and began to dig in heartily. Thankfully, Snape had given him a hearty portion.


End file.
